


A Scientist And A Soldier

by phantomlistener



Category: Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomlistener/pseuds/phantomlistener
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-"Shadow of the Past", Liz has a change of heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Scientist And A Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Vague spoilers for Liz's Companion Chronicle, "Shadow of the Past."

It wasn't often that the entire UNIT staff were forced to stay overnight in their headquarters. But then again, it wasn't often that a giant monster demolished almost a third of UNIT's forces - good men and women, killed in the kind of fight no-one had ever wanted to see.   
  
It was late but Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart was still awake, sitting at the small desk in his room and writing those endless, awful letters to the families of the dead. He'd written about fifteen when he paused, pen still in hand, and stared down at the letter on the desk. As if a sheet of paper could even begin to make up for the loss of a son, or brother, or husband. He felt the burden of responsibility for their deaths: if Miss Shaw and the Doctor hadn't worked things out in time, it wouldn't have been a third of his troops. It wouldn't even have been all of them. It would quite literally have meant the end of the world.   
  
There was a light knock on the door and Alistair turned. "Yes?"   
  
The door opened to reveal Elizabeth Shaw. She still looked slightly shaken, her vibrant hair a stark contrast to the paleness of her face, and she was wrapped in a warm cardigan. "Mind if I come in?"   
  
"Not at all, Miss Shaw."   
  
She smiled sadly as her eye caught the desk. "Writing letters of condolence?"   
  
"Yes." He gestured at the bed, the only other place to sit. "Please, sit down."   
  
She was silent for a moment, watching him as he fiddled with the pen in his hand and reordered the papers on his desk. "Not so easy, is it?" she asked finally.   
  
"It's the worst part of being a commanding officer." Alistair looked up. "Did you want something,   
Miss Shaw?"   
  
"I wanted someone to talk to."   
  
"And the Doctor wasn't around?" he asked acerbically.   
  
"I wanted to talk to you, actually."   
  
He raised one eyebrow in surprise. "To me."   
  
"Why is that so surprising? Today...I thought you were going to die. I thought the doctor was dead. And I thought...what if I never get the chance to tell you that I don't really hate you?"   
  
He stared at her for a minute, and then laughed softly. "Elizabeth Shaw. Sometimes you surprise me."   
  
"Only sometimes? I must be slipping. And...please, call me Liz. This 'Miss Shaw' business has gone on for far too long." She smiled at him as she pulled the cardigan tighter around her body and crossed her legs, shivering slightly.   
  
"Chilly...Liz?"   
  
"A bit, yes." She paused briefly and fixed him with a penetrating stare. "We're not so different, are we?"   
  
Sometimes her insane jumps of logic were hard to follow, but this one he understood perfectly. "A soldier and a scientist. We might not like to admit the similarities but they're certainly there."   
  
Liz smiled wryly. "I don't mind admitting it."   
  
"You don't?" He turned to look at her. "For the past few months it feels as if we've done nothing but argue."   
  
"True. As you said - a soldier and a scientist. We're bound to disagree sometimes."   
  
"I think you enjoy it."   
  
She shot him a look of pure mischief. "Of course I do."   
  
"Liz, since we seem to have called a truce...I was wondering something." Alistair rose from his chair and sat tentatively next to her on the bed. "I'm a soldier. People look at me and they see no further than that. And I have a feeling it's the same for you."   
  
"No more than a scientist," Liz said softly. "A cold woman who only knows test tubes and chemicals."   
  
They stared at each other for a moment.   
  
"You're not cold," Alistair told her quietly.   
  
"Not at all." Her voice was barely a whisper as she leaned closer towards him. "I...I shouldn't."   
  
"Then don't."   
  
He was giving her a way out, gentleman that he was, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away. Then his lips met hers, gently, and she closed her eyes, one hand running along his jawline to touch his cheek.   
  
When they broke apart, Liz leaned in to him and rested her head against his. "You're not-"   
  
"Doing this out of pity, or habit, or anything else? Of course not."   
  
She flashed him another mischievous smile. "Then you might as well carry on." 


End file.
